


Flourishes

by Raaj



Category: Bravely Default: Flying Fairy
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raaj/pseuds/Raaj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little ficbits of Bravely Default.  Can and will have spoilers for everything, so be warned!</p><p>Ch. 11: Braev's sons, dutiful as each was on his own, were together beginning to give him a headache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alternis, Mahzer, Ringabel: The Florem Flourish

**Author's Note:**

> A little collecting place for the scenes that aren't full-fledged stories.

Women and men have different ways of talking, at least in Eternia. This makes the new arrival from Florem stick out like a sore thumb: he is a young man grown in a country of women, and as much as he takes great offense when his manhood is called into doubt, there’s no denying that his manner of speaking makes him sound more like the women he learned it from. Mahzer is no linguist, so she’s not quite able to put her finger on all that makes his words stand out as different from the men’s—the higher intonation is obvious enough, but there’s more, little things beyond that. The Florem flourish sounds different in a boy’s voice, but it’s definitely present. And when Alternis is patient and in a good mood, which is usually when he is found with Edea, the little questions stand out: “Right?”, “You follow?”, always making sure the younger child is keeping up with him when she’s not tearing along her own line of thought. It’s perhaps a bit strange to hear a young man talk in such a way, but his voice is clear and sweet enough to make it rather becoming.

But he is a young man entering Eternia’s army, and Mahzer knows how certain officers, Crowe and Heinkel in particular, feel about women and femininity. Their attitudes infect the ranks and it’s all too often that Alternis is sour and recalcitrant, mocked when he speaks for how he does and mocked when he bites his tongue. Braev is soon sighing that the only solution the boy seems to have found is to speak with his fists—which is, at least, a step up from using his blade, but still no good for keeping order in the ranks. It’s easier for one to change than a multitude, so it’s no surprise that after some weeks Alternis is deliberately pitching his voice deeper and rougher, and the rolling tones of his motherland are beginning to vanish. It’s a somewhat regrettable change, but after the weeks have turned into months and months into years, it’s all but forgotten by the Lee family. Braev, Mahzer and Edea have all grown used to the clipped tones Alternis has come to use and can hardly imagine him speaking any other way. The memory of how Alternis was when he first arrived into their lives only comes to Mahzer’s mind when she is face to face with Edea and her daughter’s new friends. She asks them to take care of her daughter and one young man assures her, with a bow even, that he would never do anything but. While his words alone would make her happy, his voice broadens her smile further. He’s only got a hint of it, but he has it, that novel Florem flourish. It goes perfectly with his charming manner.


	2. Tiz, Magnolia:  A Relieving Breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiz and Magnolia are still getting to know each other, but Tiz's mind is on another young woman. (Bravely Second)

The sands of Ancheim stretched out on all sides of them, and Tiz took solace in the winds blowing across the landscape. If the crystals were safe, then their sole vestal must be as well. He closed his eyes and let the breeze play over his face, and steadfastly ignored the distant rumbling of Promethean Fire roaring across the desert. It wasn’t really there. That was the celestial realm. This was Luxendarc, and he anchored his mind in the physical details of the world: the intense sun bearing down, the exhaustion in his weakened muscles, but most importantly, the cooling breeze he’d once helped Agnès revive.

“That look on your face… you’re thinking of something pleasant,” Magnolia commented.

He opened his eyes slowly, looking at her. Her carefree attitude hadn’t changed one bit as they’d left the laboratory; he was left wondering what she was really thinking. “It’s been… so long since I’ve felt the wind blowing.”

“Oh la la, I see! Some _one_ , then.”

“Wh-what do you—” He knew complete strangers knew of him, even if that thought was foreign to the shepherd boy he had been, but she was talking as if she knew him well. Well enough to tease him about crushes, like Edea had.

Though Edea had never gotten as close and personal during her teasing as Magnolia now did, leaning in and touching his chin with her fingers. “Hmm…? How cute. You don’t have a poker face at all, do you?”

He knew he was only proving her words as his face heated further. Her jerked his chin away from the touch. “You never did say why you retrieved me.” Rescued? He wasn’t certain it could be called that, not just yet. There was too much he didn’t know.

The silver-haired woman tilted her head, seeming to find the question strange. “Could I have left you to pickle down there? You have friends eager to see you again.”

…Was that why she was being so familiar? She knew his friends? He wanted to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was playing a tiny bit with ideas of how the Celestial and its departure might have affected Tiz's mind, nothing of him seeing the Celestial realm is supported by canon. I just think it'd be cool.


	3. Tiz, Edea: Care Packages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt-based: Tiz, Edea, and sweets.

"Edea!"  
  
Edea turned around, surprised to see Tiz waving energetically to her as he stood by the red-clad adventurer who had turned up at so many points along their journey. What had him all excited? —Aha! There was a small crate held in his other arm. The adventurer often served as a way for Tiz to communicate with the rebuilding effort in Norende, delivering Tiz’s instructions and bringing him various gifts, as well as letting them know when Norende’s shops were selling new equipment that could be valuable in their journey. If the adventurer had just given him something, it was sure to be from the small village.  
  
No wonder he was happy. Edea smiled before cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting: “They send you something good?”  
  
Strangely, he shook his head, laughing. Then he cupped his one free hand around his mouth to call back. “No! They sent YOU something!”  
  
…Wait, what? Why would the restoration workers send  _her_  anything? She barely knew them at all! It was Tiz’s hometown, and while he sometimes asked the others for their thoughts about how to prioritize the myriad projects to be completed, he took pride in the work in he was doing by organizing the laborers, and she never tried to step in on that. None of them would; they were glad Tiz had something to help occupy his mind when their adventure was at a pause.  
  
“Are you going to come see, or do I have to bring it over? I thought you liked presents!”  
  
Well, he was definitely chipper. It had to be something good! “Coming…!” She shouldn’t rush too much—Hartschild was too hot  _without_  breaking a sweat—but her curiosity had her breaking into a jog. What would they have sent her? Perhaps a weapon.  They’d certainly bought enough for the blacksmith to have a clue about her preferences. Except, no… the box was too compact for what she preferred. So—  
  
Oh, who cared about guessing when they could just open it! She came to a stop in front of Tiz and the amused-looking adventurer, leaning forward curiously to get a look at the crate. Yes, much too compact for any weapon besides a dagger on the smaller side; she didn’t mind those, but why would that have Tiz looking so pleased when he knew her preference was swords? “Well? What is it? Show me, show me!”  
  
“Haha. Hold on, give me a moment.”  
  
“You should have gotten it open while I was coming over!”  
  
“No way! Anticipation is one of the best parts of presents.”  
  
Spoken like a child who had always listened to his parents and left the presents alone until they said it was okay, Edea thought.  _She_  had peeked on a number of occasions. It wasn’t bad as long as she acted surprised! And…honestly, on one or two occasions she’d needed the forewarning to be able to act pleased about Father’s gifts. He was a truly formidable mind when it came to military matters, and was utterly stumped at gift-giving unless Mother explicitly told him what to buy.  
  
But Edea didn’t need any practice to act surprised and pleased when Tiz finally got the crate open. It was full of something Hartschild was lacking because of the war, and that she’d been dearly craving as a result— _sweets_! Wrapped toffee pieces filled the small crate to its brim.  
  
“We had our own special kind of toffee in Norende,” Tiz explained. “It’s nothing fancy like the desserts in Ancheim or Florem, but I always liked having some as a treat. And I told them you like sweet things, so… I hope you’ll give it a try."  
  
“Of course I will! Who cares about fancy? Sweet is sweet! Like  _you_  are,” Edea said with a laugh, poking Tiz’s cheek. The boy quickly leaned away from the touch, but the blush had already started, rapidly overtaking his face. “I’ll try it right now!” she declared, scooping up the box.  
  
Tiz straightened, rubbing his cheek as he looked to the adventurer. “You gave the other box to Mrs. Goodman, right?”  
  
The man nodded. “I’m sure the children in town will enjoy the treats as well.”  
  
“Eh?” Edea paused in savoring the first piece. Ah, she hadn’t even thought about sharing… she felt guilty for a second, but then brushed it aside: Tiz had told her it was  _her_  present, and that was because he’d already thought of the others. “Sweet  _and_  thoughtful,” she amended.  
  
“You don’t have to flatter me simply because I got you your craving,” Tiz said, but he was smiling.  
  
“How about I share a piece with you instead?”  
  
“Heh. I’d like that.”


	4. Einheria, Alternis: Cafeteria Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt-based: "Alternis and Einheria taking dinner while discussing in which job Edea would look better…"

"Has the grand marshal decided which division she’ll be assigned to yet?" Einheria asked, making no effort to disguise her curiosity. Edea was practically a third sister; while they were years apart in age, they had both been disciples under Master Kamiizumi, and she had taken pride in giving the young girl some guidance when she needed it.

Alternis shook his head, spearing another forkful of stringy green beans. “Not just yet. I can say for certain she won’t be in Central Command; the grand marshal would want her to gain experience abroad. But he’s kept his thoughts on the matter to himself.”

Einheria grunted softly, unsurprised. While a clue would have been nice, it was like Braev to refrain from discussing the matter with even Alternis. No doubt he wanted to give the appearance that Edea was being treated just like any other foot soldier, even though as a father it must be impossible for him to completely divorce his feelings from the matter. “I still have some hope of seeing her among the valkyries’ ranks,” she mused. Edea had the strength of conviction a valkyrie needed, and the snow-white armor and winged headband would rather suit a girl who saw the world in black and white, making her like an avenging angel on the battlefield.

Alternis seemed to pick up only on the one word she hadn’t fully intended to say: “Still?”

The valkyrie’s eyes refocused on him, guarded. Her wish to have Edea under her wing had once been stronger, yes. But Florem seemed to be treating her two blood sisters poorly. Artemia was regressing to some of the behaviors she’d shown when the Lee family had first discovered her roaming the wilderness, and Mephilia’s behavior seemed… disjointed at times in the rare meetings they had. A selfish part of Einheria hoped that if the templar’s own flesh and blood were in the region, he would reevaluate the tactics DeRosa had decided upon; they were causing pain to both the women of Florem and the women of the Bloodrose Legion. But the logical, loyal part of her knew that victory was not painless. DeRosa’s tactics  _worked_ , and it would be insubordinate to speak against him in idle cafeteria gossip. That being the case, she did not want Edea’s high spirits possibly broken by the man’s ‘techniques’. “Your thoughts?” she asked by way of deflection. “It’s somewhat disappointing she won’t be staying in Central. You’ve never allowed others to be trained in your asterisk, but perhaps you would have made an exception for her.”

“What?” Alternis was genuinely taken aback at the suggestion, and firmly slapped his hand down on the table a second later. “Never! Not even for Edea!”

…With that much vehemence, she’d say  _especially_  not for Edea would be more accurate. His reaction had garnered looks from the other tables, though some of them were simply confused; Alternis ate in public so rarely that people always had trouble connecting his unarmored self to the dark knight they saw in the halls. “Calm yourself. It was an idea, nothing more.” His reaction was interesting, though. Alternis had always been tight-lipped about where exactly his strength as a dark knight came from, and though Braev undoubtedly knew, he had also kept it to himself; still, observations and theories had been made over the years. If the thought of Edea using his asterisk alarmed Alternis, it pointed to the theory that his occasionally amateur defense was not amateur at all, but intentionally neglected. His strength came from being wounded. She wondered how much that might explain about his personality. “If not a dark knight, what would you see her as?”

Alternis folded his arms, glaring at another table from the corner of his eyes as he made himself answer with composure. “…Edea has always talked of becoming a knight. She would most likely be happiest under Heinkel’s leadership.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know, Alternis,” Einheria ordered, annoyed by the roundabout. Anyone who knew Edea a day knew she adored knights. “What  _you_  would see her as.”

His eyes flicked back to her, but he seemed oddly embarrassed as he answered. “Unlikely as it is with Khint’s fees, I feel Edea would be well-suited to the spell fencer.” He raised his coffee to his lips for a drink quickly afterward.

“Ah? Yes, that’s true.” After all, they did make much use of the sword, one of Edea’s preferred weapons. And though Khint had stopped training others in his asterisk, she recalled he’d been a fairly good teacher before he’d suddenly quit his post; there had been a number of people interested, both men and women.  Even she had been somewhat intrigued, though the women's outfit left something to be…  _Ah._  Perhaps someone's crush was coloring his opinion here. “I suppose the aesthetics don’t hurt,” she said, just to see how Dim would react.

He choked on his drink, sputtering, and she debated on letting her special ability kick in before taking mercy and reaching across the table to slap his back.


	5. Tiz, Agnès: Vigils

The first time Tiz and Agnès set up camp in the wilderness, there is a long, drawn-out argument about who shall keep watch, conducted so quietly and politely (and perhaps a touch passive-aggressively) that a bystander would have missed it. He wants to protect her; she wishes to protect herself, so that he might see his aid, kindly as it is meant, is unneeded. He should return to Caldisla and let her meet the Eternian Sky Knights alone. She will resolve the situation as she must. She is their only target. No one else need come to harm, especially such a soft-hearted boy who has already lost so much.

The argument closes at a draw when they fall asleep together outside the tent on the same log, their backs each other’s mattress, their shoulders each other’s pillow, each more exhausted from their private sorrows than they would admit. Tiz stirs once or twice and realizes just what they’ve done, turns to wake Agnès to urge her into the tent—but the softest whimper from her makes him pause. She’s really, truly asleep, and she needs her rest, and he has the feeling she’ll promptly deny that if given a chance. It’s a dry night at least, comfortably cool and without wind (as all nights have been lately), so he supposes the tent isn’t really necessary. As long as she sleeps. He’ll keep watch…if he could just stop his eyes from closing…

Comforting as it is for both of them to be able to rest next to another warm body, they wake in the morning with cricks in both their necks and not a little embarrassment for the odd sleeping arrangement. Especially after Airy scolds them for both falling asleep when they were so stubborn they wouldn’t. By the time Ringabel and Edea join their party, they have established that Agnès’ mission is better served with help; she’s grown amenable to taking turns in the watch so everyone gets their rest. That first night with the four of them, the argument is instead between Ringabel and Edea: a heated discussion of the pragmatics of sharing their shift. (Him for, and her against.)


	6. Sky Knights, Alternis Dim: Dragon Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt-based: "can you make one for Crowe? I want to see that guy happy for once."
> 
> ...In which the Sky Knights have a special mission, and drag young impressionable dark knights along for the ride. (Pre-game.)

"Well done, Sky Knights!" Heinkel praised as the group regrouped in the shadow of the mountains, well away from the obelisk. After the fiery battle they’d just weathered, they needed to stay out of the sun and cool off as much as possible. "An admirable job. And you, Alternis—our thanks. You were an excellent guide, and even better sword."  
  
The black-armored boy looked up sharply before giving a jerky bow, his helmet still pointing toward Ominas, who was paying the proceedings no mind as he giggled over their prize. “Thank you, sir. But—”  
  
Argent wasn’t sure he wanted to explain his second-in-command’s fascination, even if he had just helped the man indulge it. “Barras!” The older knight’s change of direction left Alternis floundering before he snapped his mouth shut. “You do your asterisk proud. Few men could bruise a dragon with their fists alone.”  
  
“Gahahahaha!” The monk punched those mighty fists together, laughing in delight. “What a fight, what a fight! My fists and your and Alternis’ blades, against dragon’s claws!”  
  
Holly scoffed, brushing her hair back with one hand… and cringing in disgust as her eyes flicked down to one particularly large bloodstain on her once pristine robes. “Are you forgetting someone?”  
  
“Of course not,” Heinkel said smoothly. “Without your white magic, not one man among us would be standing. You’re truly invaluable, Holly.”  
  
“Save the flattery, Heinkel—I’ll settle for a new set of robes.”  
  
“Heh. Relax. It was ordered before we even set out for this excursion.”  
  
“Excellent. I can’t  _wait_  to be out of this. …Barras, stop waggling your eyebrows, you oaf. You might make little Alternis faint, if the heat stroke doesn’t first.”  
  
“I’m fine,” the teenager snapped, though he did yank off his helmet, revealing his sweltering face, red far beyond what a little innuendo could cause. Heinkel winced in sympathy. Armor could be suffocating in a fire fight. Black armor with full helmet, and in a hot region like equatorial Eisenberg… they were lucky the boy hadn’t fainted yet. He took his canteen and held it out to the young knight, and was little surprised when Dim barely hesitated before seizing it and drinking half the water, dumping the remainder over his head before he even thought to look chagrined by his impulsiveness. Heinkel dismissed the teenager’s concern with a small wave of the hand. He ought to have taken more care for the youngster beforehand, and not just due to his age; Alternis was not one of his command. While they hadn’t broken any rules by borrowing the boy from Kamiizumi on his day off-duty, it would result in awkward questions if they had to bring him into medical when they had no official reason for even being in the  _region_. Luckily Holly had an eye for weaknesses, even if she mostly used it to pick at them.  
  
Giving Alternis one last look—he would probably be fine, though it would help if they could convince him to leave any further fights on the return to them and take the rest of his armor off so he didn’t  _bake_  within it—Heinkel turned to Ominas. The mage was still beaming and at times giggling as he cradled, hugged really, a black, bumpy egg so long and fat that it took the man both his arms to carry.  
  
Heinkel didn’t think he’d ever seen Crowe this happy, and he nearly wondered if he shouldn’t be concerned about what they had set into motion, getting Crowe a dragon’s egg. But the mage had given some very convincing arguments about how useful a tamed dragon would be as a beast of war, especially as it grew older. As long as Crowe kept it under control, he’d allow it. “Are you satisfied, Crowe?” Heinkel asked, putting on a sterner tone to catch his second-in-command’s attention. “The mother salamander should still be out from your sleep spell for a little longer. If you have any doubts as to whether that egg is fertilized, let’s double back now, rather than later.”  
  
Because he’d thought dragons could be tricky, but no. Mother dragons protecting a clutch of eggs were far more vicious than the regular ones. He could even see in the corner of his eye how Alternis cringed slightly at the prospect of going back… whereas Barras looked a little too excited by the faint possibility of a second round.  
  
“F-f-fertilized?” Crowe laughed. “How c-crass. Can’t you f-feel it, Heinkel? It’s brimming with magic, and FIRE! It’s a dragon! Eheeheehee!”  
  
“Wonderful. He has a pet dragon,” Holly said drily, faintly, and Heinkel could  _hear_  Alternis making that noise,  _the_  noise, the one that said he found the situation odd but wasn’t sure how to phrase his objections yet. He was overthinking it, really. They had only incapacitated a dragon that, to hear rumor tell it, belonged to the long-absent archduke of Eternia, in order to steal one of its eggs for Crowe to raise as a pet-slash-weapon. As an unofficial mission. In the Black Blades’ region of command.  
  
Heinkel really hoped Alternis continued not to find the words to question this, because he was an excellent knight and a fine young man, but so  _incredibly_ , rigidly, by-the-book at times for someone who had almost certainly lied about his age to join the army.  
  
“Wonder how long it’ll take before it’s big enough to wrestle,” Barras mused. “Hey, Ominas! What are you going to call it?!”  
  
“Him!” Crowe insisted heatedly. “It’ll b-b-be a male. And his name will be Bahamut!”


	7. Agnès, Edea: Heat and Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt-based: "She reached out and took the other girl’s hand in her own, intertwining their fingers."

Edea's hand, hovering in front of Agnès' stomach, found company when the vestal's fingers slid over the Eternian's, intertwining with them.  Edea blinked in surprise. The four of them and Egil had all collapsed in a pile after their brush with death, so there was a lot of contact going on at the moment: Ringabel’s arm was draped over Tiz’s shoulder and chest, the shepherd held Egil as though he might never let go, Agnès’ forehead looked to be touching Tiz’s as her body bracketed Egil’s, and Edea’s own body was curled about Agnès as her arm hung over the older girl’s side. The adrenaline had left them now that no one was about to fall into a pit of lava, and they needed a moment before they could feel like untangling themselves, physically or emotionally.  
  
But the touch of Agnès’ fingers, slick with sweat and burning hot from their recent exertion—that was very deliberate. And even if it felt kind of gross, with Edea’s hands already being too hot from their own effort, the girl wasn’t going to pull away. Because holding hands wasn’t something Agnès did: she’d let Edea hold hers a few times in Florem, but when her only friend was vestal in another region, casual contact was foreign to the vestal of wind, unprompted touches making her tense for a second before she relaxed and allowed them. And since her friend’s death, Agnès  _hadn’t_  allowed them. Not at all. She’d pulled away from Edea so sharply, it still hurt.  
  
But…she had made the contact this time. And was holding hands, her sweaty fingers shaking as her thin shoulders trembled. When Edea realized Agnès might be  _crying_ , she made a concerned noise, squeezing the other girl’s fingers a bit.  
  
“I am fine,” Agnès breathed, her voice thick with tears. “I’m so relieved. Thank you, Edea.”  
  
“I wouldn’t have let you fall,” Edea said. Nor Tiz or Egil. Agnès needn’t thank her for that.  
  
Agnès’ full head of hair shook slowly, and this time she squeezed Edea’s hand. “Thank you. For being here.”  
  
She needn’t give thanks for that either. But that she was giving it told Edea she would no longer be held at arm’s length or have to pull back her own open hand, and with that knowledge, Edea could feel the last bit of tension bleed out of her. She leaned forward to touch her head between Agnès’ shoulder blades. They would have to move soon, get back to the higher ground so they could continue to the crystal of fire. But just for a moment longer she wanted to stay here, and bask in the warmth that had been rekindled in Agnès’ heart.


	8. Praline, Agnès: What Can We Do For You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florem needs a helping hand in restoring its balance, and Praline has Agnès convinced to try motivating people her way. That's not to say the vestal doesn't have some pre-stage anxiety... (Somewhat crack, inspired by X-2).

"Yoohoo! Lady Vestal! Are you ready?!"  
  
“P—Praline! Not just… not just yet!”  
  
Despite being fully clothed, Agnès nearly shrieked anyway when Praline took the frantic response as her cue to burst into the changing room. The younger but more experienced performer cast a critical eye over her outfit, virtually identical to her own; Agnès nervously fluffed the skirt, awaiting judgment. “Well it can’t be the clothes keeping you, you look fine. What’s up? We’re on in five!”  
  
Agnès shifted, fighting not to wring her gloved hands. “It’s… we’ll be in front of so many people, and…” She winced, and finally confessed: “The last time I got on a stage in Florem did not go so well.” She’d been harshly booed off for lack of ‘sexy’. While she had tried not to take it to heart then (sexy was not supposed to be the point anyway!), the memory kept returning to her mind now. In a matter of moments, she would be trying to appeal to the people of Florem. What if they just booed her off-stage again?  
  
The blonde frowned, putting her hands—one held her microphone, ever at the ready—to her hips. “Lady Agnès, you’re a professional! And professionals don’t let one bad experience get them down.” Agnès wondered if perhaps the former asterisk bearer was choosing to overlook how she’d responded to losing for the first time, though in all honesty she was glad the girl had run off rather than pursued a fight, possibly to the death. Praline was working to do so much good now, even with this concert. This…concert…that was about to start, and that she was supposed to sing in…what had she been  _thinking_ , agreeing to that request? Agnès groaned and buried her face in her hands, prompting the teenager to rush in with reassurance. “You’ve been practicing, and with the help of the asterisk, you nearly sound and look as good as me!”  
  
Agnès had had enough exposure to Praline’s attitude in various worlds to know that  _likely_  hadn’t been a backhanded insult at her singing or appearance, just the girl’s cheerful frankness and self-assurance. She still glanced down at her outfit again to make sure everything was in place. “I—I’m not a professional singer, Praline.”  
  
The girl frowned and pouted. “You’re not helping the Rebuild Florem effort as the vestal?”  
  
“…I am…”  
  
“Then you’re doing this as a professional!”  
  
“…You’re right.” It was important she do this as the vestal. The concert was to raise awareness of the desperate situation in which the Bloodrose Legion had left Florem’s sacred wildlife, and ask people to commit themselves to fixing it—not to mention raise funds for the work. If they did, in turn it would, hopefully, help bind the new lifestyle of the younger daughters of Florem back to the older population that had remained traditional by showing they didn’t have to clash. The desire to be fashionaaabluh was not inherently sinful. She had been approached to give the concert her backing in some manner to assuage the Matriarch’s fears about even allowing such a flashy event to occur… and, somewhere along the line, that had escalated into Praline deciding she wanted a partner on stage, and the concert becoming even more highly anticipated as not just Praline a la Mode’s comeback, but the debut of the Wind Vestal. As if she would ever make a career of this! But if it helped improve the situation in Florem…  
  
It still seemed mad that she was about to sing in front of hundreds, possibly thousands of people, but at least Agnès could remember why it was supposed to be a good thing. Besides, she had faced the end of worlds. This was not  _quite_  as terrifying. She nodded to Praline. “You are right,” she repeated.  
  
“Of course!” Praline twirled her pink mic with a smile. “Take a deep breath, and just remember: you’ve got a whole ton of fans out there already! They’re going to be shouting for you! My fans might drown them out though, sorry.”  
  
The giggle that burst out of Agnès might have been a nervous one, but it took some of the tension out of her; her shoulders eased as she looked up at Praline with a smile in return. “Yours do go wild.”  
  
“Diva Praline, Lady Agnès! One more minute!” a woman’s voice called.  
  
“Coming~!” Praline gaily sang out. Agnès quickly picked up her silver mic and followed the songstress to the excited cheers of the wide crowd of mostly women spread out in front of their neon-lit stage… and a more mixed crowd in the air. Agnès stared at Grandship and the line of people of different nationalities spread out along its railing—the attendance was certainly in the thousands now!—and then caught a flash of motion that had to be Ringabel waving cheekily from the helm. She’d known nothing of this! She hadn’t even told him about the concert! Why was he here, and with so many passengers?  
  
Oh, Crystals, she hoped all those people were here for Praline, not her. But she knew Ringabel at least would have come for her…and that made her feel a little better.  
  
In contrast to Agnès’ mixed feelings, Praline was immediately delighted, bringing her microphone up to amplify her voice and reach them. “Wow, do I spy some Eternians and Caldislans up there? You all must have come a long way for this! Thank you for the support. I just know we’ll have a great show tonight!” She waved with a flourish, and then turned her attention back toward the intended audience: the women of Florem. “Girls! You know, when they first asked me to come back on stage, I told them, ‘No way! I quit!’ But I’m here tonight for a very important reason… one that’s too important for ANY of us to ignore…”  
  
As the Florem native gave her opening comments, Agnès focused on keeping a bright smile on her face and evening her breathing. No one was booing for her to get offstage like at the flower festival, and she tried to think of it as something like the crystal awakening rite: instead of drawing out a crystal’s energy, she would draw out that of the crowd’s. They weren’t booing. They wanted to see her shine, and she would, for them. For Florem, the land Olivia had loved so much. At the cue, she stepped forward to meet Praline’s side, raising her own mic to speak. “Everyone! I have the highest hopes for Florem. This has long been a country of beauty. You can make the flowers radiant again!”  
  
The band struck up the first melody: an updated, upbeat version of a folk song, and Agnès and Praline posed in mirror positions. And then, together, they sang.


	9. Einheria, Mephilia, Artemia: Sisterly Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a happier world, the Venus sisters spend some bonding time together.

"Einheria wrong," Artemia declared flatly.  "No understand carbuncle.  Carbuncle soft, round.  Cuter!  Carbuncle’s strength, hidden."

Einheria frowned and pushed her slender reading glasses back more securely on her nose as she leaned over her half-woven charm, trying to discern where she had gone wrong; Mephilia giggled as she leaned against the oldest sister’s arm for a look of her own.  ”He is seeming rather pointed, Einheria.  Almost vicious.  You’re always looking for where a creature keeps its spears, aren’t you?”

"My fingers simply aren’t as nimble as Artemia’s," Einheria muttered, and for all her frustration, she didn’t miss how a grin flashed across her baby sister’s face.  Artemia was very proud of her charm-making, something Einheria wished she had realized much sooner.  Years ago, when Artemia had first begun making likenesses of Frostis after being recovered from the wilderness, the eldest Venus sister had been afraid it meant she was thinking of running back to the woods and had confiscated the charms and materials.  But as much as Artemia loved the Frosti, and despite how reticent she had become around most people, she had never wanted to abandon her sisters, even after they had accidentally abandoned her.  The charms were just her way of remembering the creatures who had saved her from total loneliness—and they had actually led to Artemia socializing slightly more than she would have otherwise, as she had been hawking them to traders to be sold as a small side-business, a fact Einheria had learned only recently.

Einheria was learning a lot of new things about her sisters, after Florem.  If that hellish assignment had done any good, it was in showing her that she could not blindly follow orders.  Nor could she protect her sisters by simply commanding them without knowing their needs, their desires.  How they behaved when happy, and how they showed their pain.  She had very nearly missed realizing the true extent of the pain Mephilia had been suffering in her task of exterminating flories…

Drifting into this sort of thought as she reworked the charm beads, Einheria actually missed the pointed stare Artemia was directing by her head to Mephilia, until the young girl declared, “Mephilia not even try!”

For all that Mephilia had been revered as a prodigy far beyond her years, she tittered rather childishly as she held up her own… carbuncle?  Einheria looked up, squinted through her glasses and then tilted her head to look over them, wondering if she was missing something that would make the mess of beads resolve into a discernible pattern.  But she would have to agree with Artemia: Mephilia had not even attempted to create a carbuncle.  The shapeless form was proof of that, even if it was arrayed in a somewhat interesting pattern of colors.

"Dear sisters, were neither of you aware how clumsy I am with my fingers?" the middle child asked, idly picking at the jewelry and adding more beads.  "You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if I  _had_  tried.”

"Mephilia," Einheria said, frowning.  Whether or not they succeeded in Artemia’s craft was not the issue here.  This was supposed to be a bonding time.  ’Bonding’ would hardly be accomplished by making light of their baby sister’s interests.

Fortunately Mephilia did seem to understand that, meeting Artemia’s sullen glare with a soft smile, a rare sight when it reached even her lavender eyes.  ”I do appreciate the skill you put into these, Artemia,” she said.  ”Perhaps I could pick up the colors you need for ratatoskrs tomorrow?”

"…Artemia would appreciate," the girl said with a nod.  "Working together, good girl power."  ’Girl power’ seemed to have become her favorite phrase since Victoria, of all people, had organized that club.

"Cooperation is a great sisterly power as well," Mephilia murmured.  "Why, I do believe Einheria’s got the idea of a carbuncle now."

"Slightly," Einheria muttered, trying to focus on indeed making the carbuncle form look rounder and…’cuter’.  But her focus didn’t stop her from flushing when Artemia gasped appreciatively.

"Oh… Yes, better!  This much better!  Sister  _do_  have some girl power!”


	10. Edea, Tiz: Childhood in Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edea revisits childhood memories in Eternia, and Tiz lets himself be a child again for the afternoon.

Edea hasn’t been able to walk about Eternia freely for over a year now, probably two; she thinks briefly of asking Ringabel how long their journey has been now, but then lets it slip from her mind.  That’s a little depressing, and right now she’s so happy.  Her father in this world has seen the strength and conviction she’s developed fighting alongside Agnès and respects that; the only fights between their sides have been battles meant to test and train the wind vestal’s party for facing the True Evil at the end of their journey.  Only that and no more, and she is so, so glad for it.  It’s given her and her friends a chance to not just train their bodies, but set their minds at ease for a little bit and regather their strength that way.  Edea has been taking the chance to stroll through Eternia at her leisure and revisit a number of comforting sights from her childhood; one or two were favorite restaurants, admittedly, but there was also her favorite hill for sledding, the bushes on the outskirts where one could pick cranberries, the library where she had on a number of occasions made Alternis hold her on his lap as she “taught” him how to read.  (Well, she still thought she had been at least a little helpful in that regard: she’d given him plenty of encouragement to learn!  But a five-year-old’s instruction couldn’t be _that_  good.)

Her actions have been guided by her strong morals, but the strength of those morals comes from love, both for her family and for the beautiful country she grew up in.  So she wants to use this opportunity to revisit those nostalgic memories and bask in their warmth.

Of course, walking down memory lane does tend to distract one from the present.  When a laughing little boy crosses her path, glancing over his shoulder as he runs, she doesn’t think to look at what he’s running from but simply keeps walking, smiling at him happily up to the instant that a very cold, wet snowball hits the back of her head, part of it sliding down into her scarf.

"Ahh!  Cold, cold!"  Though she opens her scarf right away to get as much of the snow out as possible, she already knows it’s not exactly going to keep her warm anymore, not with the big wet spot.  "All right, who threw that?!" she yells, turning about on her heel to spot the culprit.

There’s a whole group of little kids playing in the snow. They range from ages 6 to 10 at a guess, and none of them are exactly eager to meet her eyes.  But her suspicions instantly fall on the one exception to their group: the young man with a red winter coat and messy brown hair that she knows very well, whose shoulders are shaking with quiet laughter as he stays turned away.  Surprise doesn’t stop her from marching on him.

"Tiz Arrior…!"

"I…I’m sorry, Edea," he says, still laughing.  "I didn’t see you coming there—waugh!"  His neck tenses sharply with surprise as she applies two handfuls of snow to the back of it, and she rubs it in as he squirms beneath her.  "Mercy!  Mercy!  Edea, I didn’t get you that bad!"

"Payback is always more severe," she tells him as she lets go and claps the remaining snow off her gloves.  Some of the children are giggling at him now, and she smiles at them with satisfaction before crouching down by her friend.  "What are you doing?  And where’s Agnès?  Is she being a baby again?"

"She stayed longer this time," Tiz protests, still rubbing his neck.  "But yes, she got cold.  Ringabel took her back to Grandship." 

"And you stayed to play with the local kids."

"Yeah," he answers, without a hint of embarrassment.  "They needed an extra person to have even sides for a snowball fight."

Even if he first stayed just to be nice, that broad smile says he’s genuinely enjoying himself.  Edea hums happily as she gathered up a little bit of wet snow between her hands, idly beginning a snowball.  “Well, any chance one more can join in?  Which side should I be on?”

"That would make  _two_  grown-ups,” a little blonde with a pink dress and red coat says thoughtfully, glancing at the boy by her side.  “And she looks like the Templar’s daughter.”

"Wait, what’s that got to do with anything?" Edea asks indignantly.  They weren’t wanted here!  That was the whole reason she’d been able to let her guard down here, so close to Central Command!

"Any side you go on would have a really unfair advantage," the boy tells her, frowning.  She frowns back, because—well, he’s probably right.  But she wants to take part too!  "So, you two should be a side on your own."

"…Two on seven?" Tiz questions, dubious.  "I think we just slid the other way on unfairness…"

"What?  We can take them all," Edea declares.  It does seem a little lopsided, but there’s no joy in an easy victory.  "Challenge accepted!"  And then she asks Tiz, in an undertone:  "Can I use Love Rush?"

"Edea,  _no_.  …Maybe.  Look out, here they come!”


	11. Alternis, Ringabel: Check and Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braev's sons, dutiful as each was on his own, were together beginning to give him a headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little silliness I posted long ago on Tumblr and decided to add on here.

"Daughter,” Braev asked. “What nonsense is this?” For nonsense it was indeed–his two sons, counterparts who seemed still unable to countenance each other, were squared off as if to fight, but it was obvious they had not clashed their drawn blades yet. There had been reports that the guard monsters in the dungeon basement were displaying unusual behaviors, flocking to one particular chamber, and now it was obvious why: both dark knights were making full use of their ability to charm demons, if not outright abusing it. It near seemed like they were organizing a life-size game of chess as each in turn beckoned to a demon, calling it to his side and amassing a growing squad. At the same time, each seemed loath to actually make the first move, perhaps because each knew that as the other was weakened, they would in fact grow stronger. Braev’s instinct was to cast rampart on all and break up this foolishness before it could result in bloodshed, yet Edea’s presence gave him pause: she was clad in Templar armor, seemingly ready to do the same… but not quite yet. She was content to let the blinkered men not notice her for a little while longer.  
  
“Ringabel’s sort of nonsense,” she sighed, her voice lowered. “I was hoping Alternis might catch on. This is going to be _so_ embarrassing for him. …You may not want to be witness to this, Father. _Alternis_ would not want you to witness this.”  
  
“If I were concerned about a humbling defeat,” Braev muttered, “I should be concerned for the one who has forgotten his experience as a dark knight.” The dark knights were near-identical in their armored appearance, but could still be distinguished by their differing blades and small changes in stance…and the differences in their tactics were glaring. His otherworldly son may have charmed the same number of demons, but their types were rather one-sided: overwhelmingly feminine, and of the species that loved to seduce its victims rather than smash them outright. Alternis had gathered a couple of those as well, but they simply balanced out the smashers on his side, hulking archdemons that were already flexing their brawny arms in anticipation. Physical blows being more reliable than charms, Braev felt the odds were rather in Alternis’ favor.  
  
Edea simply shook her head before look up at him. “Father, you think this is about strategy? Ringabel can’t strategize against a monkey in flower chess. This is about–oh, he’s doing it. I _knew_ it,” she exclaimed as the older dark knight unexpectedly unlatched his helmet, grinning fiercely at his counterpart as he braved three times. Braev found himself stumped. An all-out attack? Why would a dark knight remove one of his strongest points of defense–and what in the worlds was the boy doing with a microphone suddenly in his hands?  
  
It was shamefully belatedly that he remembered his daughter and this son had mastered several asterisks, not only one, and realized the trick at play. Ringabel had allowed Alternis to become focused on the strategy of organizing his horde, but Ringabel’s gambit depended on only numbers alone.  
  
“Ladies!” Ringabel cried out. “When I sing–!”  
  
“Kyaaa…!!”  
  
…The Liliths on his side were certainly already going wild. Braev fought the urge to bury his face in his hands; he had to stay vigilant and keep this fight from going too far, readying himself even as his son brazenly belted out chords for spells: Love Rush, Love Rush, and of course… My Hero. The heady combination of speed boosts drove the she-devils into a veritable frenzy as they charged Alternis, and when Edea failed to move, Braev strode forward with a hasty rampart that covered every living being in the room. “ENOUGH!”  
  
There was one further thing he had not realized, however, which was that Ringabel had not set the Liliths to _attack_.  
  
Perhaps one charm might have failed to capture Alternis, or even two or three. When it was very close to a dozen all at once, it not only ensnared the dark knight but effectively broke his command on the demons, causing them to disperse in disinterest: they were trained well enough to know not to attack a member of the army unless given explicit orders. This left Ringabel’s Liliths free to pull Alternis to the ground, a couple working his helmet off as they cooed to him, two others sliding their hands between armored pieces to feel him through the bodysuit as their tails wrapped around his thighs, together using their enchantments to work the young man into a red-faced, blubbering mess of excited embarrassment.  
  
Braev’s face flared as he jerked his eyes away from Alternis–Edea had been too right, he would not want a defeat like this witnessed–and set his glare on Ringabel, who was now rather pale. “L…Lord Marshal.”  
  
“Ringabel!” Edea shouted. “Think you’ve made your point? Call them off, already!”  
  
The man nearly jumped out of his skin at realizing there was a second witness. “I was going to!” he yelped. “Ladies, we’re done!”  
  
The demons sounded disappointed as they arose and drifted out, leaving Alternis behind. Judging from the groan he gave, the boy was still disoriented from the charms, and Braev focused on Ringabel for the moment to give Alternis the opportunity to gather his wits. Though he, too, would need to be addressed about this matter. “If you two are picking needless fights,” he said in a tone he considered even enough, “perhaps you do not have enough meaningful tasks.”


End file.
